


always you

by tintinwrite



Category: Devilman, Devilman: Crybaby
Genre: Angst, F/F, Femslash, Love/Hate, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 04:18:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13310268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tintinwrite/pseuds/tintinwrite
Summary: Suddenly Miko understood. The ugly feeling, the bitterness, the hate, the fear, the doubt, the guilt, they had all split away from the coagulation of love that was hidden in the space between her lungs and her throat.





	always you

Miko had always considered herself a coward. 

It took the possession of a demon for her to come out her shell, to admit to herself what she really felt all those years. The feelings were ugly, full of spite, hatred, the greasy feeling of jealousy that she could never wash away, like sand stuck under fingernails. For all those years she had poured those dark dark feelings into her flowers,  _ a garden of hatred,  _ she thought to herself grimly. She’d told the flowers her secret, those bottled up emotions that she knew she could not keep within, it corroded her. It was all for the better, because flowers couldn’t talk. 

_ I hate Miki, I hate Miki, I hate Miki _ . 

Miki with her green smiling eyes, Miki with her long legs and effortless strides, finger nails painted a subtle shade of shimmery pink that catches the sun when they have lunch on the school balcony. Miki leaning close, so close that Miko could catch the scent of her minty shampoo dance around them. Look Miko, she laughed, holding up her phone in the small space between them, everyone says we look like sisters.  

_ Sisters, friends, rivals, enemies. _

Miko couldn’t remember a time when she raced without seeing Miki’s back, just out of reach, ahead of her.  _ Faster _ , she would command her feet, urging her muscles to move her, just a little more, just enough to catch up---But then the whistle would blow and the clicking of stop-watches, and Miki’s ponytail would stop their tick-tock swing as she rounds to a stop.

_ Another record for the Witch,  _ Miko thought, then she would flinch at her own overwhelming bitterness and hate, as if she did not know they dwelled there in the deep deep part of her heart, had been dwelling there for the past decade. 

Sometimes Miko would secretly wish that a stray pebble on the rubber tracks would lead to a bad fall, maybe a sprained ankle, and for maybe two weeks Miko (no,  **Miki** Kuroda) would have the selfish view of the empty track and field stadium stretching out ahead her, not another racer in sight, because she would be the fastest. 

_ Rivals, enemies.  _

_ (Lovers).  _

Maybe it was the jealousy that blinded her, maybe it was pride, but Miko never realized that she was in love with Miki.

Not until she saw Miki enter the room, eyes puffy and red, fists clenched. Akira was saying something, the gangster boy in the snapback told him to shut up, metal clicking of the gun as he waved it with the motion of his body. Miko felt blood gliding down where the bullet had grazed her, the demon inside her stirred, it wanted to be let out.  _ It can smell the death and fear in this room, it can smell it on everyone here.  _ But when Miki entered the room, Miko couldn’t take her eyes away.

Miki, who had just lost everything in a matter of hours, Miki, still moving with that courage and her usual vitality; the light in her eyes burning just as bright. _ She is only pretending _ , the ugly thing inside her heart screamed,  _ she cannot still believe in goodness.  _

_ She can _ . 

The spark of tenderness that was beginning to take form said in reply. 

_ She still believes. Because she is Miki.  _

Suddenly Miko understood. The ugly feeling, the bitterness, the hate, the fear, the doubt, the guilt, they had all split away from the coagulation of love that was hidden in the space between her lungs and her throat. Had all those waves of  _ what _ ?  _ Of hurt? Of Hate? Of fear?  _ Had all of them come from this grotesque, frankenstein-born malignancy of her selfish love? A love so repressed, so deformed, so full of fear. 

_ You hate Miki. You hate Miki. Remember? You hate Miki.  _

_ No,  _ the malignancy spoke, it was her own voice, distant, dissociative.  _ No.  _

Miko saw the flowers in her garden. Silent, swaying in their muted way with the breeze. 

_ The Miki you hate is yourself.  _

That summer 5 years ago, on the gravel road beside the canal. Miki’s voice, vibrant against a darkening dusk.  _ You are so fast, Miko-chan!  _ The swelling of pride in her chest, unguarded smile that was still true back then.  _ I want to run as fast as you.  _ The walk home, arm in arm, Miki’s soft, nimble hand sliding into hers.  _ I want to run as fast as you. _

Miki,  **her** Miki. 

She loved her beyond all reason. 

 

And Miki Kuroda hated herself for it. 

  
  
  
  


\--

  
  


_ Miko always knew she was a coward. When the tears blurred her vision, when she felt the wooden floor under the palms of her hand, Miko figured it was true.  _

 

_ “I loved you” _

 

_ Miki says, “I know.” _

 

_ This twisted love, her own demon.  _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> watched Devilman Crybaby last night; lots of MikiMiko feelings.
> 
> I think in a way the love is requited, maybe in an another universe - a happier universe - this love could be validated. Miki has so much love to share, Miko is scared to grab her share. Fear comes to Miko in two tiers, first in hatred and then in love. When the longing grows too strong, when the desire of needing to /be/ becomes overwhelming, that's when fear surfaces. 
> 
> Anyways, I want to do a cute fluffy AU next, everything gets a little too heavy, my heart needs a break too ¯\\_༼ ಥ ‿ ಥ ༽_/¯


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